The posings of a poet.

Mast ered

I would choose to stand before the mast
For here I can observe
the curve
Of oceans vast
I am not prepared to go below
That is for the meek
the weak
And dying don’t you know
I’d rather sink my fingers in the ropes
To view from masthead
the watershed
And fathom such grand hopes
I do not wish to be the ballast
Slung down below
only to grow
More and more calloused
I want to shake out the main
Escape this berth
Finding worth
In experience while I remain

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